Breakdown
by VioTanequil
Summary: Too much is too much. With the approach of spring, Kuchiki Byakuya's patience and tolerance for all things stupid is wearing thin. A prank played by Renji does not help matters. Slightly OOC Byakuya. Prequel to His Other Day Job.
1. Uh Oh

He closed his eyes in exasperation as he turned away from his lieutenant, attempting to calm himself down. _Deep breaths, Bya-kun. That's in, and then out. And in, and then out. Simple, ne?_

He emitted a low growl, fists clenching as he banished Senbonzakura's thoughts from his head. He heard a slight whimper from the room which he assumed was Abarai. The man better be afraid. He better be. His jaw clenched as he tried to calm himself down. It was not working.

By any right, and had this been any other taicho, Renji would have made it out of the compound without anything having happened to him. Yes. It was simple enough to set the trap up, simple enough to rig everything up, and even simpler to leave unscathed. Unfortunately for him, his taicho happened to be Kuchiki taicho. The singularly most anally attentive taicho to details that the Gotei had seen in ages.

He had missed the soup, he had missed the tripwire, but strangely enough, it had been the classic bucket of water that had done it. As a last joke, Renji had balanced a bucket on the rafters, with a string attached to the sliding shoji door. And surprisingly, that had been the one which had gotten him.

Kuchiki taicho now stood in his office, dripping wet. There was silence all around, even the birds dared not chirp outside the window. The world held its breath for Renji, and somewhere over in the Eighth Division, Kyouraku Shunsui sneezed. But back to Sixth.

He stood there, a very sodden back facing Renji. Said fukutaicho knew that he could probably attempt to run, but that it would not work. Kuchiki taicho was much faster than he was. He had no choice, but to stand there stock still and wait for whatever punishment was coming.

Byakuya's fists clenched, and a drop of water dripped down onto the floor, an all too audible ping. That was the last straw. He whirled around, eyes flashing dangerously, right hand placed on Senbonzakura dangerously. Renji's eyes widened in horror.

"Ku-Ku-Kuchiki taicho! I-I-I…"

"Urusai! Abarai…" His voice was low and dangerous, the tone freezing cold. Renji felt like a deer in the headlights. He was trapped. He was caught. He was dead. He was about to die via pink flowers. He keeled backwards and fainted. A frustrated growl tore itself from Byakuya's throat.

After all the trouble, after all the frustration from the past few years, from the past few months, from the past few days, Aizen and everything, especially after having Fifth Division's paperwork foisted on him, he had been that close to breaking point. The arrival of spring, and the first blossoms on the trees were testing his patience, and wearing at his emotions. His breaking point had been that close. And he had just reached it.

He resisted the urge to smash an inkwell in Abarai's face, mentally running through the different ways he could use paperwork to torture the unconscious man. Eyes narrowing dangerously, he swept out of the room in a whirl of scarf and robe, leaving the few spectators outside to rush inside hurriedly. They knew what to do, having served under him for so long.

Wrenching the kenseikan out of his hair, he crushed it in his palm, flinging ceramic fragments into the wall, aided with a blast of kido. He glared at the light green fragments, cursing them. He scowled at the scarf, ripping it off his neck, tossing it into a corner angrily but leaving it alone. It was only kept intact because it was going to be difficult to explain why he had just lost something the price of ten mansions.

Sweeping into the training grounds, the division members scattered as they saw their taicho come in. Peeping over the fence, they stared in awe as one by one, the targets were completely and utterly decimated. The third seat could not help but notice that the red targets were disappearing first, under particularly ferocious 'Byakurai's.

It did not take long at all for the targets to be destroyed, and it took even less time for word to spread. Kuchiki taicho, for those who actually looked, seemed to be drenched from head to toe. Not to mention, his hair was strangely kenseikan free, and that scarf forever wrapped around his neck was gone. The third seat noticed an increase in the number of female shinigami turning up.

And he was sure that Kuchiki taicho knew it to, as the man suddenly turned, eyes narrowing dangerously, before disappearing in a rapid shunpo, in a mass of robes, a dripping mass of robes.

Ukitake Jyuushiro had been enjoying a particularly calm and peaceful day. His bonsais were all perfectly healthy and happy, and for once, Sentarou and Kiyone were elsewhere, bothering someone else. Shunsui was being kept in his office by an irate Ise-fukutaicho for not doing his paperwork. His lungs had decided to cooperate, and the limited training he had attempted earlier on in the day was not coming back to bite him in the butt with red and bloody teeth. In short, no one was bothering him, and yes, he was a very happy man.

But fate's a bitch. And we are about to find out why.

Disappearing in a rapid shunpo, the taicho of the Sixth found himself racing through the different courtyards in the Gotei, making a few trips around Eleventh to cast a sneaky Byakurai here and there and flinging a particularly foul-looking Eleventh member into a wall. Serve them right, the bastards, for having created so much trouble over the past few months.

Yes, Kuchiki Byakuya was very pissed off. His logical rational brain seemed to have deserted him as he raced through the Gotei Thirteen, leaving trails of destruction in his wake. Thing was, he was smart enough not be around when the other captains could see him. And since none of the other lower level shinigami was capable of following his much superior speed, this merely looked like a series of very serious pranks.

He knew Unohana taicho would not be pleased, but frankly, he could not care less. _Apathy, eh, Bya-kun? _Senbonzakura was placed in his personal quarters before he continued on his rampage, fingers itching with the need to blast something, anything, into oblivion.  
If he had been thinking rationally, he would have simply shunpoed out of Seireitei, turned around and started firing kido into the lethality stone walls. It would have been simple to fling incantation after incantation at the wall, without causing any permanent damage. Problem was, he was neither thinking rationally nor logically, and he did want to cause permanent damage.

Thankfully, he was still barely sane enough to avoid his own division. After all, blowing up his own division would only create more paperwork for him, and urgh! Paperwork. His gloved hands curled into fists at the thought of a month's work of ruined paperwork thanks to a particular Abarai Renji.

To tell the truth, he had not been particularly, well, particular about his appearance. Thing was, he happened to be holding a month's work of completed paperwork in his hand as he had entered the door, and as we all know, ink is water-soluble. It runs. And so, a month's worth of hard work, of pulling double time, of staying back on weekends and of covering for both Fifth and Abarai had been ruined. He did not care if there had been some other reason, like some crappy thing about loosening up. As far as he was concerned, no one ruined his work and got away with it.

Growling in anger, he slowed himself down when he found himself in a particularly nice looking garden. Taking in deep breaths, he calmed himself down, taking a slow leisurely walk within the compound which he was absolutely sure was not his. No matter. He would apologize to the owner of the gardens for intruding on their property later.

His footsteps slowed, still silent as he took in his surroundings. How lucky for him. Spring was just around the corner, and the first plum blossoms were about to bloom. He came to a halt in front of a barren tree, finding himself face to face with a small pink blossom, the only one on the branches.

He snapped, and completely lost control. Shaking, he knelt to the ground, previously immaculate haori now stained with the light brown of the soil. Hands clenched into fists, his body wracked with sobs as he tried to keep silent, suppressing his reiatsu as best as he could. Silently thanking the gods for his extreme self-control, he just knelt there shaking, tears falling to the ground.

And he was still there when Ukitake found him in the garden.


	2. A Different Kind Of Pet Therapy

Frankly, he was rather shocked. After all, it is not often that when you return to your bonsais after a refreshing cup of tea and a few biscuits, you find someone breaking down in your garden. Oh well. The self-appointed counselor of the Gotei 13 was just going to have to do something, then.

* * *

His fingers curled around the soil, his body trembling slightly. He did not really know why this had happened, only that it had, and that somehow, it felt right to be able to just let it all out. It just felt right. It vaguely registered that he was supposed to be somewhere, but he felt so… numb. So hollow. Like nothing really mattered. And really, nothing mattered, did it? He doubted that anyone would notice if he died, maybe they would, he laughed coldly. Maybe they would. And they'd point at his lifeless corpse and laugh their asses off, because the almighty, and here they'd laugh harder, the almighty Kuchiki Byakuya was dead.

His laughter faded down to strangled sobs, as he shook, tears falling to the ground. He had been out of sorts, he had not been himself for so long already, so long that he had forgotten how. He had forgotten how to laugh, laugh properly, how to joke, how to play. He could not remember the last time he had done any of this. And everything had just piled up on him. The clan leadership, the duties of a captain, everything.

He was so very tired. He wanted everything to just go back to how it had been before, to when she had still been alive, to when everyone had still been in Soul Society. To when Aizen had just been a normal happy caring lieutenant. He fancied the lies more than the truth, now that the truth was so difficult to cope with. All this war, this fighting, he was not… It was not what he really wanted. Or maybe it was, but he didn't know. He really didn't know anything anymore.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Jerking his head around, he came face to face with a slightly smiling Ukitake. A droplet of water dripped off his damp hair as he knelt there, stunned.

"Ne, Kuchiki-taicho… Want to go in for a cup of tea? I dare say the soil will be a little difficult to take out in the wash, hm? Can't have anyone stumbling on you like that."

An arm clasped itself around his shoulders, and Byakuya found himself being half-dragged, half-led back through corridors which he vaguely registered having been in before. Placed down on the ground, a fresh and dry set of clothes, as well as a fluffy towel were pressed into his hands, before the ever-smiling Ukitake taicho left the room. "I'll be next door in case you need anything! Do join me for some tea when you are done." The smile felt slightly threatening, even though he was not really rational enough to postulate why. It might have been due to the mischievous glint in the older taicho's eye.

Quickly drying himself down, he changed out of the damp clothes, folding them neatly. His brain had not yet caught up, and he was still in a semi-unaware state. Everything just seemed to go by, as though he was viewing it all from behind a wall of water. De… Detached. Yes, that was the word for it. Detached. He felt so… detached from everything.

He slipped on the clothes, tying the sash around his waist. Rubbing his hair with the towel to dry it, he fished a string from his damp clothes, tying up his hair. Calming himself down, or attempting to, he took a few deep breaths. The detached feeling was still there, and honestly, he had no idea what to do. He was sure of one and only one thing. That he was not thinking straight or rationally or any other word to that meaning. Maybe a cup of tea would be a good idea.

Still rather stunned, he stumbled in an undignified manner through the door, pausing to give a short bow to the person he was supposed to be meeting. For the life of him, he could not quite remember who that was… Oh yeah. Ukitake. Dazed, he sat down across the chabudai, reaching instinctively for the cup of tea that he knew was on the table.

Taking a sip, he attempted to clear his head of the fog that refused to go away. To no avail. Damn. In any case, he heard a voice saying something about taking a break and are you okay and are you really okay and can you hear me and something like that. Blinking, he looked up from the cup into a frowning Ukitake who went over, and like a overprotective mother hen, proceeding to press a hand against his forehead, mumbling something about fever. Oh. Right. As dazed as he was, he merely sat there, staring at nothing in particular.

Ukitake found that particularly disturbing. This was Byakuya. He was not supposed to be dazed. Oh dear. This was wrong. But on the other hand, it would seem that he was actually human, which was a good thing. Patting the dazed Sixth Division Captain on the back, Ukitake sipped at his tea, waiting for the younger man to come to his senses.

After three more cups of tea and about five minutes of waiting, the fogginess started to clear, and Byakuya found himself wondering two things. (Or actually, more than two.) One. Where was he? This question was easily answered when he looked up and saw a very concerned looking Ukitake. Two, where were his things? This question was the bugger. He had completely no idea, and vague memories of him… Oh Crap.

Crap. He blinked, remembering exactly what he had done. Burying his head in his hands from the sheer embarrassment, he mentally tallied the number of forms he was going to have to fill up, regarding damages alone. There was 15A, the repair forms which he was going to have to send in. 3, the disciplinary forms (read: stack) that had to do with unauthorized combat. 28C, the interdivisional antagonizing forms which required a five hundred word write up.

And countless others, depending on what type of damage he had done and what type of architecture and fixtures he had wrecked. He groaned at the thought of filling up a six feet high stack of paperwork.

When he raised his head, he looked so thoroughly miserable that Ukitake had to suppress the urge to go hide all the sharp objects around the room. Are you okay was inappropriate for the situation, and how can I help you might appear a little overbearing. Maa. Shoving the thoughts aside, he decided that what Byakuya needed the most was something to do. No, not Captain duties or anything stressful like that.

Byakuya needed a break, and being Ukitake, he had a fantastic idea. Pet therapy. Or at least something like that. Since it was unlikely that Byakuya would like pets, maybe he could coincidentally leave him somewhere in Rukongai… He did know a few places where they needed a little help managing the kids, and he was pretty sure that with a little pushing, nudging and if required, blackmailing. (Bribing might have worked well, but really, Ukitake was not rich enough.)

Hm… Now, how to do it? Looking the severely depressed Sixth Captain up and down, a devious grin came to his face. (Not that Byakuya would know it was a devious grin. Only Shunsui knew, and he was too frightened by then to tell anyone else, to Jyuushiro's secret was safe.) Dressed in civilian garb, he looked more like a grouchy depressed young lad than the noble he was. Perfect.

Excusing himself for a moment, Ukitake reappeared in the room, dressed similarly in a plain yukata, white hair tied up in a neat ponytail. "Yosh!" Happily dragging Byakuya out of the room, he remembered this place in the Eighth district where the kids hung around. Perhaps playing with them would be good for him? Hm… Yup. Playing was definitely good for the soul. As was candy. A smirk came to his face.

"M-M-Matte kudasai!" Byakuya attempted to dig his heels in and prevent Ukitake from moving forward once he realised that they were in fact now out of Seireitei. "A-Ano Ukitake-senpai, where are we going?" He did not expect a huge grin, a mischievous look and a shrug. "I'll tell you when we get there! Don't fret in the meantime!"

* * *

They stopped in from of a dusty patch of grassless land, where a group of boys were kicking a ball around. Byakuya turned around to look at Ukitake, only to find that the grinning white-haired menace was no longer there. He gaped. The nerve! He would have yelled, "Ukitake! Get your sorry ass back here right now!" if he had been any other shinigami, but he was a noble. And coupled with the fact that if Ukitake had left, he would probably be let's see, five streets away already, so there was not much choice.

In the end, he sat down on a slightly grassier spot. He did not play whatever this game was, for the simple reason that he did not understand it. He didn't see the point of the game. (Because he could not see the markers on the floor which marked the goals.) So he sat there, watching them, rather oddly contented, before a blow and resultant sharp pain to the back of his head made him whirl around angrily.

To come face to face with five large thugs. A glance shot out from the corner of his eye revealed that the boys were no longer there. That was fast. He ducked the second blow, reaching for Senbonzakura. Fuck. Senbonzakura was not there. Damnit. He hated fist fighting. Oh well. Slamming a fist into the stomach of an unsuspecting thug (probably because the thug had been looking in another direction for who knew what reason.), he swung a leg back to catch a thug around the ankles, attempting to sweep the cowardly asshole who had attempted to sneak behind him unseen away.

He got to his feet, hand reaching once more for the zanpakuto that was not there. Urgh. Surrounded by the remaining three, he took a step backward and into another thug who immediately attempted to pin his hands to his back. Growling in anger, and because really, he was in no mood to fight with them after the really horrible day he had just had, a foot snapped backwards and stomped hard on the sandaled feet. With a howl, the thug released him, but not before his counterparts landed a few blows on a now irate Byakuya.

A quick glance around ensured that there were no residents watching him, and kido quickly finished them off, blasting them into a wall and unconsciousness. Scowling around him, his face softened slightly when there was a tug on the hem of his hakama. Looking down, a kid offered him a small strip of white cloth, presumably to wrap the wound which he suspected was dripping blood with. (He felt something drip onto his neck.) Thanking the kid, he tied the bandage around his head messily.

"Ji-san?" A pair of widened brown eyes looked up at him concernedly. Blinking as he tried to clear his rapidly fuzzying head, he managed a "Huh?", rubbing at his eyes to clear his vision. "Ji-san, you might want to…" Byakuya blinked again, collapsing into blackness. His last thought was along the lines of "SCREW YOU, UKITAKE!"

He woke to a fuzzy view of a few small faces peering down at him. Sitting up, he blinked, looking around. He did not recognize the place or the sheets he was resting on. "Where am I?" The familiar voice of the kid piped up.

"You're with us in Sixth!" He blanched, sitting upwards.

"S-Sixth?" This did not make sense. They could not possibly be in Sixth. No, no, no, no, no. Oh gods… There went his reputation. Crap.

A different voice rang out as a much larger kid came over. "Mm. The Sixth District of Rukongai! We brought you over here after the Eighth guys didn't want to have anything to do with you. Obaa-san says it's good to help people, so we got Heiji and the others to help bring you over here. I'm Takahashi Sakana, but you can just call me Fishy."

Gesturing to the brown-eyed kid, the smallest in the group, the boy continued. "The one you know is Scamp." Little Scamp grinned toothily, waving. "Yuji, Kozei, Ota, Tetsuo, Hizu and Suko." Getting to his feet, Byakuya tested the ground slightly. Okay. He could move. That was good.

"What's your name, Ji-san?" Temporarily stumped, he fished out the first name that came to mind. "Hasegawa Chojiro."

A chorus of oohs and aahs. "You must be from a better district, Hasegawa-san?" He nodded mutely. Seireitei did count as a better district. Thanking them, he made to leave the room, only to be stopped by a small pair of hands grabbing onto his leg. "Eh?"

" 'Gawa-san, will you be coming back?" Byakuya cringed at the awkward contraction of his alias. Not knowing what he was doing or why he was doing it, he patted Scamp on the head gently. "On one condition." Widened brown eyes looked up at him, and he noticed Fish glaring at him from the other side of the room.

"What's it, 'Gawa-san?"

He grinned, ruffling the little boy's hair. "Call me Jiro-san." Giggles all around, and Scamp's blindingly large grin was only gone when he flung himself at Byakuya, hugging him around the waist. Fish relaxed, shooting an amused look in his direction. Outside the door, he turned back. "See you on Tuesday then?"

Happy grins were turned his way. "Ja ne!" He resisted the urge to shunpo way, not wanting to alert the kids. It was only when he had left the Sixth district and the children behind that he did so, stumbling into Ukitake's private gardens, murder in his eyes.

"UKITAKE JYUUSHIRO!"

Despite his misgivings, he did go back on Tuesday. And the week after that. And the week after that.


End file.
